


Wedding Bells In My Ear

by lisswrites



Category: The Borgias
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:43:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisswrites/pseuds/lisswrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucrezia and Cesare's first meeting after his return from France, follows the events of 3x05 and 3x04.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wedding Bells In My Ear

A familiar arm roped around her middle, the black expanse of his cloak pooling around her frame. He dipped his head to the crook of her neck, breathing in the smell of her- if Lucrezia’s eyes were wet, he couldn’t see, or at least not yet. But her voice seemed brittle, acidic. “Back so soon, brother?” He rumbled an affirmation against her neck and she steeled her spine. _I will not shiver before him. I am a Borgia_ , she thought, _through and through_. “And what of your wife, Cesare, is she as beautiful as her homeland?”

“I’ve missed you, my love.” She scoffed, a sound so strange coming from the dignified bow of her mouth. He pulled her away from the festivities, their bodies connected by clasped hands. Far away from the din of the crowd, he drew her into the shadows, placed her fine gown against the harsh stucco of the wall behind. Grasping her chin, he drew his face toward his. She was beautiful even in fury, the archangel Gabriel before his very eyes. She turned harshly away from his grip, “I will not be a consolation prize, brother.”

Her eyes bore into him, the remnants of his soul, the parts she’d claimed as her own, churning under her scrutiny. He placed his face against her own, lips grazing ever so slightly “It is a falsity, Lucrezia, for I am married to another- wholly, eternally bound.” Her breath hitched, a trembling, wet noise. His hand slipped around the pale column of her neck, fingers stroking the thin skin there possessively. “Or have you so soon abandoned our vows to one another?” His fingers trailed lower still.

Eyelids fell slowly, the acquiesce he been craving finally unfurling before him. “These hands,” she wrapped her fingers along his wrists, trapping his hands against the bodice of her frock. “I’ve missed these hands.” Shaking off her hold, he clutched her to him, not an inch between them when his mouth crashed into her’s, teeth nipping and tongue questing for entry. She obliged, and he thought all of the genesis of all the world’s sin would be well spent if the apple was worth even a tenth of this.

He pulled back, breathing labored, and his eyes drank in the red of her lips, grown swollen under his assault. The sheen of her eyes seemed unnatural, the whiteness of her skin ethereal in the darkness. He cupped her jaw with a gentleness that belied his earlier actions. “And I have missed this face.” A sound escaped her lips, caught somewhere in-between a laugh and a sob. “We will never be rid of this, now.” He kissed her again, drawing away only far enough to whisper “I’d wish to be shackled to you for all eternity, then” “You are in luck, dear brother- for I shall never be rid of you, not while we walk this Earth.” His voice was thick, the new ring heavy on his finger when he replied, “And even after that, my love.” The blonde of her hair seemed almost silver in the waning light. “For you will never be free of me, or I from you.” He wiped away the tears that had accumulated on her fair lashes. “What is death to a Borgia, anyway?” Her smile was beatific, the only sun and moon he’d ever ascribed to. If hell awaited him, he’d gladly burn for worshipping at her altar.


End file.
